Disclaimer: Not my characters. Song belongs to Sinead O'Connor, not me either.
A/N: So this is set right after Jen leaves him in Paris, there is no real plot so don't be to worried about the timeline. As for the letter I know it says third Ex-wife but I only said that because based on the events in "Ex-Files" I assumed that Stephanie came after Jenny.
-Victoria
"It's
been seven hours and fifteen days,
Since you took your love away"
It had been fifteen days, seven hours and twenty-three minutes since she left. She had planned her exit well.
It was Thursday, he went to get lunch and came back to find a letter where she would normally lay her head at night.
That Thursday had been like every other since they completed their mission.
During the mission, they would spend all day working out the next moves in the plot and getting in touch with their contacts. At night, they would pose as a couple, not a great feat by them but it allowed them to worm their way closer to their targets. Finally, through six months of undercover work, the threats were "Neutralized".
They were given their orders and a two week notice to come home.
The days were spent just enjoying each others company, and the nights were no different, except now they weren't bugged and their conversations flowed freely from listening ears.
Gibbs knew once he and his partner returned it would never just be an 'agent to agent' relationship. He took a chance; he gave her the offer and the next she left him, and her answer behind.
Flashback
Hand in hand 'James' and 'Mary' 'Rossman' walked through an expensive hotel's front entrance. The red-headed 'Mary' giggled into the man's neck.
Dressed in a flowing evening gown she spun into the elevator pulling him with her.
Once in the hotel room, behind closed doors the act dropped, they could be themselves.
Though,
the mission was over they had to carry on their cover. Until they
stepped foot on American soil they were Oscar worthy actors
The green silk of her dress ruffled around her knees in the cool Paris breeze. He stepped onto the balcony behind her, two Bourbons in hand.
"Can you believe it's all going to be over?" She asked, eyes never leaving the skyline.
He could see the gears in her turning as she traced all the consolations she could find.
"Nope"
She turned around and smirked at his one word answer, and snatched the glass from his outstretched hand.
"This was nice." She said gesturing to the beautiful view.
"We could be like this." He leant against the railing.
She cocked her head in confusion.
"We could stay like this."
"I doubt your basement has a view like this Jethro." She took a sip of her drink.
"Nope, but it's got a half built boat." He teased.
She leaned in and rested her head on his chest. After a minute in silence she pulled away and tugged him along by the hand.
In the door way of their suite she kissed him.
"Was that a yes?"
She smiled, but he couldn't help notice how it didn't quite reach her eyes.
She closed the French doors and pulled him into the bedroom.
She was going to remember this night.
End Flashback
His offer was not brought up the next day.
He had to give it to her, she never missed a beat. She looked and seemed normal, but it was just acting.
She had always been good undercover.
"I go out every night and sleep all day,
Since you took your love away"
It had been over two weeks since she left, but sleep never came.
She would work all day, trying to prove to everyone including her new team that she was definitely was ready to be a team leader.
Then at night she would waste her time with mindless T.V. or at an out of the way bar fending off drunken men. She would crawl into bed, in the early morning and get sleep only when her body absolutely demanded it.
If she slept, she dreamt of him. If she dreamt of him she would forget she left. If she forgot she had left, she would wake up and reach for him.
That would have opened all the wounds she had worked so hard to sew up. That would be so much harder than ignoring sleep. That would be like leaving him all over again.
"Since you've been gone I can do whatever I want,
I can see whomever I choose"
He hated her then, and now. He hated how she always pushed him to talk. He hated how she always forced him to leave the apartment, when all he wanted to do was stay there. He hated how she knew every single thing that went through his mind. At least, now, he didn't have to worry about that.
Now, he could return the flirty smiles that he got from other women without feeling guilty. Now, he could let his eyes roam the body of a faceless red-head shamelessly.
As long as they were red-reads he could image that it were her eyes staring up at him. He could imagine it was her hair his fingers were tangled in.
They were probably great women, but he never listened to their words, instead he just played back past conversations with her.
But, the women were good for a distraction. One thing he hated was that they never asked him personal questions, or pushed him to talk about his emotions. They never wanted to leave the bedroom. They never understood his unsaid words. He never hated them like he hated her.
Hating her, made loving so much more passionate.
"I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant,
But nothing,
I said nothing can take away these blues,
'Cause nothing compares,
Nothing compares to you,"
It had always been take-out with him, in DC as partners, and anywhere they could find it in Europe.
Now, she could eat in an actual restaurant. Even if she wanted to, she wasn't sure she could eat take-out again.
Flashback
After a pleasantly cool shower she stepped out of the bathroom in a long T-shirt. She dodged the suitcases that were strewn across the bedroom.
He thought they were going to leave on the same flight tomorrow; she didn't have the guts to tell him other wise.
If she wanted to leave with out him getting the opportunity to stop her (like she knew he would try, and most likely would succeed) she needed a distraction.
She would have left at night, but he had been a marine, he would wake up. She could have left for a run, but he would see the luggage.
That was when she got the idea.
"I'm hungry" She yelled into the living room.
"What do you want?" He called back.
"Take-out?" She asked walking into the kitchen.
"Jen, you hate take-out."
"I guess it's an acquired taste." She mocked his description of the Bourbon she had learned to love.
"Okay." He headed towards the door.
"Jethro?"
"Yeah?" He said with a worried face.
"Thank You." He didn't know how much that thank you was really for.
"Anytime." He replied with a crooked smile.
She heard the door slam. Dumbly, she had given up the opportunity for a last kiss.
That day she dressed casually and quickly. With all her stuff waiting at the door she placed the letter on her pillow, and left.
He walked into the Hotel room with a bag full of food.
The suite was quiet, but, no more than usual.
Something was different as soon as he entered the bedroom he knew.
She was gone along with all of her things, except that damn letter.
Jethro,
We can't keep playing house forever. This can not happen; I refuse to be your third ex-wife. I have to move on, and so do you, it is the best thing we can do for each other. I know how you feel about apologies, so I won't say it.
Thank you, for everything.
Love,
Jen
End Flashback
She cried that day. Ever since, though, she wouldn't let herself. She was far to busy to cry.
"It's been so lonely without you here,
Like a bird without a song,
Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling,
Tell me baby where did I go wrong?"
It was raining today, he was glad the sky was crying, so he didn't have to.
His food was cold, but that didn't matter, Chinese from a box tasted the same at whatever temperature.
Every day since she left he had eaten take-out. She was not going to ruin that for him. Take-out was his thing, if he stopped eating it because of her, he had to admit that everything reminded him of her.
Sometimes, he wished he could read the letter again. Just to see the way her J's curled in the beginning of both their names. But, he had burned it after memorizing the words. He wouldn't admit he needed something of hers, and by burning the letter he tried to prove his point.
"I could put my arms around every boy I see,
But they'd only remind me of you"
She could get herself lost in some guy, again. But the last time she did, she spent the whole time comparing him to Jethro. His touch, his smell, his voice, they were nothing like Gibbs'. But all she could feel was him, all she smelt was coffee, and all she heard was his voice saying her name.
She had said his name, quiet at first, like a prayer, like it was sacred. She almost felt like she didn't deserve to say it. But, she didn't know what else to say. She had no clue what this guy's name was so she said it again. Now, she could pretend she was somewhere else.
She took all he had to offer, hoping to draw strength from him.
She used him.
She used him to erase her problems.
She used him.
She used him because she had nothing to take her mind off Jethro.
She used him for the hell of it.
"I went to the doctor and guess what he told me,
Guess what he told me,
He said girl you better try to have fun no matter what you do,
But he's a fool,
'Cause nothing compares,
Nothing compares to you"
After she left Ducky had called her.
He had skated around the obvious question he wanted to ask.
"You can ask it." She interrupted his ramblings about something he had found in a dead body.
"Jennifer, are you sure this is what you want?" His voice suddenly solemn.
"Ducky, it is what I need."
"You don't sound so convincing, my dear." He soothed.
"It's been a rough week," She paused. "How is he?"
"You know very well how he is. He is not well, but, he would never admit it. And, it's not going to get any easier, for the both of you. Just try to be happy, please."
"I am happy." She said not even convincing herself.
"Don't do this. Don't lie to yourself, don't lie to me. Talk to him, work this out!" He said his frustration obvious.
"I have to go Ducky." Her voice sounded shaky.
She hung up before he had the chance to say anything else.
Why did Ducky have to tell her that Jethro was hurting? He could have lied, told her that he had moved on and all was well. Even if that lie would have hurt, she wouldn't feel as guilty as she did now. But, she would have seen right through that lie.
The good Doctor Mallard just ruined her week and, possibly, her month. He just managed to confirm her worst fear; it definitely wasn't going to get any easier.
"All the flowers that you planted mama,
In the back yard,
All died when you went away,
I know that living with you baby was sometimes hard,
But I'm willing to give it another try,"
She was never any good with plants, but not for a lack of trying. She had always bought flowers for their balcony, but they always died. But, two days before she left she had brought home an average flower (the name he couldn't remember for the life of him) but they actually survived. And, then, like they knew she left. They died.
Just like she had done for the flowers, she had re-built and rescued him. Then she left, and that part of him died along with the flowers.
He could fix himself, he would just need time. He had lost others he loved, but they had been stolen from him. She had chosen to leave. She hadn't cared if he could go on with out her. She hadn't cared that he had finally let himself love somebody again.
But, then again, she never asked for promises, and neither did he. That much might have been his fault, maybe if he had, she would not have broken them and stayed. She never expected anything permanent form him, and for that he did thank her.
-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-
She had left because she was afraid. She had left because she was a coward.
She was afraid that what they had was only a fling and would never last in the real world. Afraid to become just another name on his alimony list. Afraid to loose him on any thing other than her terms.
After all the destruction she could finally try to heal.
She wished he could be out of sight out of mind to her, and now that she never had to see him again she could hopefully put him behind her.
They were stationed a world apart; Cairo and DC. In a way she almost wanted to never have to cross paths with him again. Then, she would never have to see if he had moved on, to see the damage she did, or even worse, the damage she didn't do. But, she knew she needed to know he was aright, she needed to see him, but just from afar. Need always beats want in her world.
She didn't have the opportunity to see him now, and probably never would.
At least not agent to agent.
"'Cause nothing compares,
Nothing compares to you,
Nothing compares,
Nothing compares to you,
Nothing Compares,
Nothing compares to you"
Reviews and constructive criticism would be great
--Victoria
